Love Amidst The Chaos

42| With Love

*UNEDITED*

🎀

~ Esha ~

Is it in our moments of decision that our destiny is shaped, or is it in the moments of dovetail, or in the moments of doom that our destiny is shaped? Or is destiny, that's said to have been written all along, what shapes our decisions, dovetail, dimensions and dooms?

Was it a doom written in my destiny that I found that note this morning? Or is it the doom that's already happened that's going to shape my destiny from here?

The dread and chills I have from that piece of paper still lingers within me. Each word inked in each of my cells, like a fresh scar.

But the worst part of it all? It's just me who feels this. I've told Vidyut about it, still numb from what I read, I've mumbled what that paper held. He'd hugged me to comfort me seeing how shook I was. Then taking me to another shock, he'd laughed it off telling how that was the most common thing one would find around their mother.

Vidyut said it was a common phenomena, idle threat notes and calls, especially during the college union election period. Having being the chief election officer just made her prone to these bluffs. The knowledge that she used to receive these things had unsettled me, the questions I had were as long as the train itself. How could threat notes be common? How can it be unserious? It boggles my mind.

It boggles my mind that they are so unserious about it. Even though his justification is logical, it hasn't settled me. My heart and mind seems to be in accord with what it believes.

The sight of bubbling tea snaps me into action. I turn off the stove, pour the tea into our usual glasses, and stash the washed saucepan in the dryer. With both glasses in hand, my feet waltz me out of the kitchen. Climbing the stairs to our room, my mind drifts off in thoughts and theories again.

A meow of protest pulls me back to the present as the door swings shut behind me. I blink, realizing just how zoned out I am.

God, my baby.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry." I coo, holding the door open with a remorseful smile.

She steps in, pauses mid-stride, and then, slowly, with utmost exaggeration, turns her head to give me a narrow-eyed look that says, 'I'm watching you, and yes, I'm judging you.' After letting out a high-pitched, almost theatrical meow, she saunters over to her daddy on the balcony, tail held high with a little flick at the tip.

Talk about unrequited love, that's a synonym for cat lovers.

I chuckle, amused at that. She's just seven inch tall, fur ball but still has the capability to intimidate a 5 '3 like me. By the time I step in the balcony she's seated on my husband's lap like a good girl showing no annoyance or grump she felt earlier.

"Here, your tea." I forward the cup.

He splits his gaze off the screen for a brief moment to mine and smiles. "Thank you."

A soft smile graces my lips at that small gesture. One of my favorite gestures of his; how every time while thanking people he meets their eyes even when he's busy. All his gestures bring a smile to me, but when he effortlessly does things like these it makes me adore the man he is more than the husband he is.

I sit beside him and lean onto him, resting my head on his shoulder like all the other days we've been here. My eyes usually have a spark of interest to see what he's working on, seeming to baselessly notice some digits recorded in the ledger. I sip on my tea from time to time just like he does. The cold night breeze that promises a night drizzle hits my skin like a whisper, soothing and gentle, wrapping around me with a quiet, calming embrace. At least my body feels something unlike my mind that's rolled in overwhelming thoughts and numbness.